Those Who Live
by Amber Silverwood
Summary: 50 years, and he knew something was wrong. 100, and he was really worrying. 500 years, and Cloud Strife had given up on humanity. Two Endings - SephirothxCloud - Post Advent Children
1. Those Who Live - Ending 1

By the time Denzel turned 15, Cloud learned to count by decades.

It took a full one to realize something was wrong.

"Gaia, Cloud! You have to tell me the secret to looking as young as you do!"

He had been gone for two years only, delivering packages in the Northern Continent, but he could already notice lines appearing on Tifa's face.

It was when Denzel walked in, now 25 years old and with a soon to be bride, that Cloud noticed his own change.

That is, his lack of change.

A picture hung on the wall in his room. He, Tifa, Barrett, Denzel, and Marlene all stood in front of the memorial to meteor. He looked in the mirror. Nothing changed.

After another decade, Cid was dead. Lung failure, apparently. Cloud never had liked the smell of cigarettes. Barrett went next. A coal mining accident. The tunnels caved in, and no one got out.

By then, Cloud had taken up refuge in the Nibel Mountains. Nibelheim had never been repopulated by actual people, so he wasn't bothered. It was peaceful, despite the memories.

Another decade took Tifa. He wasn't there for it, but apparently she had gotten caught in the crossfire of two rival gangs in the bar. She wasn't young anymore, and died in the hospital the next day.

It wasn't long before Yuffie was gone as well. He had been expecting it, but it was still a shock to see the once youthful and energetic princess on her death bed.

By then, Cloud was sure he must have been at least 100 years old. He had long since forgotten his birthday, but Yuffie had still been fighting at 95 before she passed.

He, Vincent, and Nanaki eventually decided to meet every decade. The meeting point, a lake near the Northern Crater, was only chosen do to convenience for all parties.

It was only ever Cloud that stayed, however. At the bottom of the crater, where no living being ventured, a memorial stood. Cloud remembered the day he put it there like yesterday.

Even though it was almost a century ago, he could remember well the cold metal on his fingers as he polished it, the familiar length, shooting out from a tall figure and imbedding itself in his-. No.

It had taken less than an hour to secure the area and leave the sword in a perfect stasis.

And now it stood, glimmering in the sunlight with the same grace it had a century ago.

Vincent would occasionally follow him to the crater after their meeting - perhaps out of concern for Cloud's sanity, or maybe out of respect to his once-lover's son - but Cloud would simply ignore the other man as he polished the sword in a daze of memories.

For a long while, the world was in peace. But all three of them knew it wouldn't last long. It was human nature to pursue power.

At first, Cloud didn't get involved with the war. He didn't even bother to learn the names of the groups. But when an explosion went off in the distance, and Nanaki never made it to the next meeting, he gave up on humanity. He let them destroy themselves.

The land eventually turned grey. Life started to disappear.

Cloud and Vincent had the honor of seeing the death of humanity, and its rebirth.

Small towns started popping up again. The Northern Continent was the first to populate significantly, surprisingly. And, as is certain with humans, another group rose to power.

Within this time, both Vincent and Cloud started to notice changes within themselves.

Cloud was first.

The pain that he experienced that night was akin to Masamune in the heart. It burned, pulled at his skin and erupted in a sea of red.

His cabin room, once a warm wooden brown, was now coated with red and a strange, sticky yellow.

Cloud panted, tears running down his face and soaking his pillow. Centuries ago, he would have been worried about waking others in Seventh Heaven, would have muffled his cries in cotton, fisted his hands in sheets and bit down on his lip until it bled. Instead, he screamed, and writhed, and cried for not only the pain but all that he had lost, all that he had fought for, all that he had killed for. He cried for the gun, the girl, the cat and the lion, the ninja, the vampire, the pilot, and finally, finally, the Angel.

That beautiful angel, who's face he saw even after the darkness took his mind.

That same night, he woke up in discomfort and pain. He was still on his stomach, but when he rolled over onto his back, a strange squelching sound was heard. He took a sharp intake of breath, and slowly got up and walked to the bathroom.

At first glance in the mirror, he looked fine. Sweaty, yes, and pale, but nothing out of the ordinary. Then, he looked at his back. His breathing picked up, eyes widened, and his already pale face turned sheet white.

On his back, covered and dripping with the same white and yellow viscous liquid that now coated his walls, was a pair of tiny white wings drooping with the weight of its membrane.

Cloud took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and counted to twenty. When he opened them again, he was disappointed to see the pitiful baby wings still there.

He spent the rest of the night in the bathtub, washing away the disgusting liquid, leaving the water hazy and smelling putrid.

When he finally got out as the sun started to rise, he was cleaner than he had been in a long time. The everpresent layer of dirt that had accumulated from hours riding Fenrir was now washed away, leaving him feeling as young and newborn as his new appendages.

The next time he visited the Northern Crater, his wings had tripled in size. The once pitiful and mangled wings were now majestic and mature, practically dragging on the ground when relaxed.

As he sat on the dirt ground, polishing the seven foot sword on his lap, he remembered another wing: Black, just as - if not larger - than his own. The first time he had seen it, he had been reminded of an angel. Only that wing though. Not Cloud's own. He could never be as beautiful as that one-winged angel.

Vincent came up from behind him. The ex-Turk hadn't seen him in twenty years, having missed the last meeting. They both opted to ignore the two horns sprouting from his head, and the bat-like wings pulled flush against his back, and instead focus on the more obvious issue.

"..." Vincent's silence was enough to gauge his reaction.

"I'm not sure why they appeared, or why now. Maybe he's back... Maybe not." Cloud muttered. He missed a spot on Masamune. More polish. "I tried to get rid of them. Cut them off first, then tried tearing out the muscles. They grew back every time. Firaga didn't work either... How have you been?" Cloud abruptly changed the course of the conversation as he flipped the sword over to start the other side.

"Cloud... I promised you that I would never ask this... but he is dead, and you have to move on." Vincent started, but was interrupted when Cloud raised a hand, halting his movements.

"Look at this, Vincent. Look at this." He raised Masamune up from his lap to hold it out in front of him. "Isn't it beautiful, Vincent? This was my death, and my rebirth. It was the instrument of destruction, the partner of an angel... Chaos has been more active lately, hasn't he?" Cloud was being uncharacteristically poetic, and now asked this question, seemingly out of the blue.

"...?" Vincent's silence was answer enough yet again.

"I can feel him, you know. Are you aware that it has been 500 years since meteor? Chaos knows, and I think you do too. Your time is almost up. The world is repopulating, and with that life comes your death."

"Yes..." Cloud sighed at Vincent's resignation.

A year later, an explosion was heard in the distance, and particles of green and purple could be seen floating in the air.

Cloud stood silent on Mt. Nibel, his wings shaking behind him as the last remnants of his life were erased from the world.

He closed his eyes and jumped off the cliff, his wings spreading out and carrying him north.

He finally understood what his angel had been talking about. What was the point of existence? To conquer. But what could he ever do? His life was gone. Taken from him by the very people he promised to protect. Why did he ever protect them in the first place? He couldn't remember anymore.

As he neared the crater, he saw strange shadows in the distance. When he lowered down, he saw that buildings had been created in his absence, a town suddenly formed. Rage flooded his mind as he saw the bottom of the crater.

In place of the Masamune was a soon-to-be tower, a flag of red, black, and white hanging from the wooden skeleton. Throwing caution to the wind, he swooped down low and flew over the streets to the building. He stormed inside, and found the spot where the sword had once been. A wooden floor now covered it, courtesy of the new settlement. Cloud closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pulled out Firaga.

The first flame caught easily on the new wood, and quickly spread upwards. After smoke started filling the air, and he could hear the cries of the people outside, he walked out.

There were about twenty of them, mostly men, but also a few strong looking women and teenagers. He stopped a ways away from them, his eyes dark and clouded with simmering rage.

"Where is it?" He whispered, his voice carried over to them by the wind.

An elderly man stepped forward, obviously the leader of this new population.

"Who are you? Why have you done this?" He asked, his graying hair pulled back by the wind.

"I said, where IS IT?!" Cloud furiously demanded, his voice now louder than the crackling of the burning wood and the roaring winds. His wings snapped out in back of him as he yelled, causing the people to gasp in fear and awe.

"What are-" Cloud suddenly appeared in front of the man, the Fusion Sword against his throat.

"What have you done with the sword." He angrily whispered in the man's ear. His eyes widened in realization, and Cloud pressed First Tsurugi even closer to get the answer.

"I-I don't know, we just moved it a bit, we sold it to another settlement nearby too. Please, we've just started to grow, we needed the money-" Cloud's eyes flashed green, and the man's head rolled to the ground.

A woman screamed, placing a hand over her mouth in horror. Cloud stepped back, and headed to the next town.

When he finally found the Masamune in an old house owned by a man and his family, he decided that he would wait for humanity to destroy themselves.

Two centuries, and technology was developed yet again. Another 50 years, and the first war. Cloud was proud to say that he didn't interfere once, even when one side was completely wiped out.

Only a few villages survived, and it was then that Cloud decided to end it all for good.

By then, he had four new wings in addition to his first two. He could now fly farther, faster, and with this power, he burned two villages on different continents on the same day.

First Tsurugi cut down the stragglers, while he kept Masamune strapped to his back.

The last village was destroyed on the 750th anniversary of Meteor. They weren't aware that they were the last either, so they sent their children out to run away to the next village. Cloud decided to hunt them down.

There were only three of them, so the last humans alive were a boy and two girls. The boy was older, maybe 16, and was protecting the two young girls with a broadsword out in front of him.

"Why are you doing this?" He shakily asked. Cloud watched him for a moment. The boy had black hair, and striking blue eyes. Cloud faintly recalled someone like that, but couldn't quite place it.

"I have lost all hope for humans. I am breaking the cycle of war and hate." He replied. The boy trembled - in fear, or maybe rage - and reset his stance.

"There isn't just hate in this world. There's love, and joy, and happiness. You have no right to take that from us!" The boy yelled. Cloud remembered a time when he once thought that.

 _You don't get it. There's not a thing in this world I don't cherish!_

The memory hit him full force, making him physically take a step back. When had he become so cynical? So hopeless? What had happened to the savior of the world, the defeater of the Great Sephiroth?

Hojo. He remembered now. The S-Cells, and J-Cells, the immortality, the wings. Zack Fair. That's right. The boy reminded him of Zack Fair. Why was he doing this? Was this the living legacy that once took up the Buster Sword? Why was he doing this? Why?

"What's wrong... Cloud?" A voice penetrated through his thoughts.

Why was he doing this? Revenge, maybe. Hopelessness. There was no future for humanity anyways, not if he kept living. And he would always live, so there would be no future for them.

When he came to, he noticed that the kids were no longer in sight, and he had a knife in his chest. He quickly pulled it out and threw it to the ground. Then he left.

Cloud followed the kids for awhile, soaring high above them and watching with blue-green eyes.

The boy grew into a man, and honed his swordsmanship. He had no mako to enhance him, but he was powerful none the less. The girls grew as well. One became strong with her fists, the other daggers.

Cloud suddenly noticed that materia was no longer used. Magic itself seemed to be nonexistent.

Cloud let them grow.

When one of the girls became pregnant ten years later, he knew it was time.

He swooped down to meet them as they stopped in what used to be Nibelheim.

They immediately readied themselves for battle, but Cloud kept the Masamune and Fusion Sword on his back.

Silence filled the area as they stood staring each other down. Cloud broke it first.

"What are your names?" He asked curiously. The man narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but replied nonetheless.

"Kal." He then gestured to the blonde next to him. "Sera." Then to the black haired one. "Mari." Sera had a slight bulge to her stomach. The pregnant one. Cloud noticed that Kal stood in front of her more than the other, even though Mari appeared to be his sister.

"I am Cloud Strife. Unfortunately, this is the end of the line for you. Are you prepared? I would like a fight, if you are willing to indulge me." Cloud stated, drawing out the Fusion Sword.

"I have a question." Kal spoke up.

"Yes?"

"Why do you carry that long sword, if you never use it? Why do you care about sentiment if everything is going to disappear anyways?" Kal spat out. Cloud lowered the Fusion Sword, before finally sticking it into the ground. He pulled Masamune off his back, and held it in front of him, forehead resting on the shining silver as his eyes fluttered closed.

"This sword... no, you're going to be gone anyways. Maybe you will meet the owner of this sword in the lifestream." Cloud muttered in a daze.

"No, Cloud Strife, you're the one who will be joining that person." And with that, they started their attack.

At first, Cloud let them come at him. And they were actually fairly strong, despite being unenhanced. He only blocked, the long edge of First Tsurugi easily pushing them back. Eventually though, they got a hit in. What would have been a fatal blow centuries ago was now a mere irritation, but it reminded him of the other times that had happened. Enough that his eyes flashed green for a moment and he released the Masamune with a wide sweep. The group was thrown back, and this time, only Kal got back up.

When the man shakily looked up, though, he stopped. Kal's eyes widened in shock, his whole body shaking.

Cloud could immediately feel why.

"Why are you playing with these children, Cloud?" The voice drifted through the area.

"Sephiroth." Cloud whispered. He could suddenly feel that phantom head resting on his shoulder, the warm breath on his neck, and all Cloud could think was,

"Why?" The hand wrapped around, pulling him into a loose embrace.

"Didn't you ever wonder why your precious Vincent died? Why you started the massacre of humanity? Did you ever think, Cloud, that maybe you haven't been as alone as you've always thought?" The ghost whispered into his soul, and yes, that was all it could be, a ghost, because Sephiroth was dead, and Cloud was alive... right?

"Wrong. If you are alive, then I am alive. If you are dead, then I am dead. And with these lives, you have given me a physical form yet again." Cloud could hear the pleased smirk in that voice, but still could do nothing but watch as the Masamune was taken from his hands by the transparent ghost in front of him.

"Would you like to finish this, Cloud?" Sephiroth asked. It was clear that he was talking about the boy. Cloud could feel the last remnants of that hundred year old defiance drift away, never to be seen again... just like those blue eyes he once had.

Kal was still paralyzed by fear. The sword he once held was long since discarded, now lying in the dirt by his feet. Sephiroth stepped aside.

Cloud could no longer think straight. When was the last time he had felt the presence of someone from Midgar? Someone who actually knew him? He had been forgotten by time, but here was someone who remembered him, valued him, made him feel useful. He had given this god a body. Why not finish it?

The Fusion Sword was suddenly in his hands. When had it gotten there? When had he stepped up to Kal? Questions drifted through his mind, but all that he knew was that his god was counting on him to finish everything and kill the last human. He swung First Tsurugi at Kal. The boy's eyes were still wide open when his head rolled to the ground.

~•~•~•~•~ Ending I

A low gasp made him turn to see who was still breathing.

The blonde, Sera, was her name, was clutching her stomach in pain, as she slowly turned to crawl away.

"Go ahead, puppet. Finish, and I will be very pleased." And isn't that all he ever wanted? Handing over the black materia, killing off humanity, finishing this job, wasn't it all for his god?

"Yes." Came his whispered reply.

The girl was struck down. First Tsurugi ripped through her stomach, blood spurting into the air and onto his clothes and wings.

The phantom behind him became even more corporeal as the bodies returned to the lifestream.

"Very good, Cloud." He could feel hot breath on his neck now, no longer just a dream, but he wanted, no, needed, more.

"Please." Cloud gasped, pleading with his god to let him feel.

"The other girl." Sephiroth murmured, eyes flicking over to the unconscious body. Cloud wasted no time in dropping the Fusion Sword through her body, ripping her in half.

As the green particles drifted into the air, he heard a chuckle behind him. He turned to see his god, a pleased smirk on his face.

"Good puppet." He cooed, running a hand through Cloud's hair. The blonde responded with no hesitation, leaning into the touch with an euphoric smile.

"Shall we sail the cosmos together, dear Cloud?"

He nodded in acceptance. The ground rumbled. Around them, plants, trees, animals and monsters turned into green dust, shooting out towards Sephiroth. As the first wave of the planet's life seeped into his god, he could see the transformation with his own eyes.

More wings grew, creating a body that he had only seen once before.

As the rest of the planet dissolved, the echoes of its cries fading into nothing, seven wings wrapped around him, protecting him in a safe cocoon as the world he once knew crumbled away.

"Good puppet." Was the last thing he heard as warm lips pressed against his own, sending him into darkness.

~•~•~•~•~

If you would like a slightly happier ending, go to the next chapter. If you are satisfied, I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it.

Amber Silverwood


	2. Those Who Live - Ending II

~•~•~•~•~ Ending II

He came to his senses when he heard a gasp. The girl, Mari, was still alive. The phantom breathed again.

"Go ahead, puppet. Finish this." Cloud nodded his acceptance. He lifted First Tsurugi from the ground, approaching the petrified girl. She was kneeling in shock, her eyes hazy and distant. He raised his sword above his head.

She lifted her hands.

He stopped.

Her hands, when had they done that?

When had her eyes become so green?

Had her hair always been that shade of brown?

Why... is she smiling?

Cloud collapsed in front of her. She gazed at him with those all-knowing eyes.

"It's alright Cloud. I understand. Sometimes the planet forgets that humans are fragile, and she pushes us a bit too far. But that's what I'm here for, silly! I make sure that her Weapon, isn't just a weapon." That smile was still there.

"Weapon?" He murmured. "Not... Hojo?"

"No human could have done this to you, Cloud. The planet wouldn't have allowed it. But she chose you anyway, and for that I am very sorry. You had to suffer almost an entire millennia alone. But not anymore, okay? It's over now. You can rest."

Cloud's mind was still trying to comprehend everything. He was... a puppet. Not a weapon. Or was he? He gazed down at the woman in front of him.

"Aerith... can I go home now?" He whispered. She smiled.

The world started to glow. Trees became particles, drifting into the air, and he could feel himself being pulled along with it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see silver hair approaching him. An arm snaked itself around his middle.

"It seems that we will not be able to sail the cosmos together... I... accept that."

What was his god saying? All he could focus on was the warmth against his back, the tickling of silver on his neck, and the white filling his vision.

When he was finally able to see again, it was of striking yellows and greens, which soon made up a field of flowers.

"Hey spike! You finally made it! And you brought Seph with ya!" A cheerful voice came from behind him, and he turned to see the familiar grin on his once-best friend.

"Zack." Came his choked reply. A hand on his shoulder made him look up to see cat-like eyes staring down at him.

"Thank you, Cloud."

I hope you liked that ending as well. This was actually the first one I wrote, but the other fit best with the tone of the story, so I chose that one to be the main ending. But it's up to you which one is reality.

Amber Silverwood


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